


Bloody Johnny

by Linain



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Bloody Johnny, Bloody Mary References, Bloody Mary!John, Friends to Lovers, Kinda?, Love Confessions, M/M, Magical Realism, Mirror!John, Pining, but mildly, cursed!John, trapped in a mirror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:50:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5982022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linain/pseuds/Linain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock calls Bloody Johnny from the mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Johnny

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, my fanfiction-virginity taken by this piece of Johnlock AU. Beta'ed by a wonderful and patient i_am_deaded, go check her works too!  
> We'd love to hear your comments so feel free to leave some!  
> Enjoy

                                                                                                                        Bloody Johnny  
                                                                                                             by Linain (beta: i_am_deaded)

  
''Bloody Johnny.''  
  
_Oh, this is so stupid. I feel like a stupid child who believes in fairy tales and monsters under bed and all that nonsense.  
_  
It didn't help that Sherlock Holmes knew he was an adult playing children's game. It didn't help that he was standing in a completely darkened bathroom (he had to cover the semi-transparent door with a towel), and it also didn't help that he, despite everything, felt nervous. But it was a significant part of the experiment, so it couldn't be helped.  
  
_''Bloody Johnny.''_  
  
I mean seriously, what dull-minded creature dared to invent this game in the first place!? It was an insult to human kind. Though it was also true that human kind was an insult to human kind.  
  
Sherlock snorted. He was getting too clever for his own brain.  
  
''Right, the experiment. Am I allowed to talk out loud in the middle of this stupidity? That remains to be seen apparently... though I don't believe that something will happen, mind you.'' He glanced at his skull.  
  
Sherlock had been pretty lonely these days. The only human contact he got was by associating with his clients, which was distant and impersonal, and with DI Lestrade, and even then they always talked about work. Not that he wanted to talk about useless and boring things anyway. He didn't even want to think about his brother Mycroft.  
He shuddered at the idea that those two men were the only people he really associated with.  
  
The skull on the toilet seat watched him with its hollow eyes as if it were saying: ''I don't care, I'm dead.'' Sherlock turned back to the mirror.  
  
Okay so, to summarize the whole test:  
  
Subject: The myth of Bloody Johnny and its effect on young children; tested by an adult  
  
The adult: SH  
  
Place and time: Bathroom, 221B Baker Street at 18.48 pm  
  
Previous knowledge on the subject: Since last November, the bored children of the UK had supposedly abandoned the Bloody Mary game and adopted Bloody Johnny instead, but nobody knows why. The interesting bit was that some children have claimed to have seen him, and the descriptions of his looks matched. However, there were no relations between the children or their families. A few mirror incidents had been reported, but the official authorities couldn't care less. They said it was just some popular and weird came going on among the children.  
  
Sherlock had overheard this while visiting Scotland Yard and was bored enough to find the occurrence slightly intriguing, which was why he was now standing in the dark bathroom. He had already done all the research he could and this was the next logical step. He still thought the 'appearing figure' part was complete nonsense, a child's wild imagination, but he wouldn't be the world's only consulting detective if he didn't believe in his own principles: When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.  
  
 _ **'Bloody Johnny.''**_ Silence. Then...  
  
''I bloody hate name that you know.'' a voice echoed in the bathroom. Sherlock stilled.  
  
''If somebody calls me 'Johnny' one more time, I will bloody turn into the real Bloody Mary and bloody kill him.''  
  
Sherlock was sure that this was just another Mycroft's prank to humiliate him. He decided to continue the game.  
  
''Would you prefer John then?'' he asked.  
  
Silence.  
  
''Finally an adult stupid enough to try kid's game, thank God!'' the voice laughed partly relieved, partly shocked.  
  
Sherlock was insulted by this. He straightened his length - though nobody could see it in the dark, cameras or not.  
  
''I am doing an experiment of importance, which you do not clearly see. There has to be an explanation as to why this phenomenon exists, and I intend to find it out. Now, if you are quite done with your stupid pranking, Mycroft, I won't tell Lestrade about the cakes you ate behind his back. Good day.''  
  
''Wait!'' the voice shouted a bit fearfully. ''Nobody's pranking you. I'm really in the mirror, turn on the light and you'll see.''  
  
Sherlock was sceptical at this, but he would need the lights to find his skull anyway.  
  
_Click._  
  
There was a man standing in his mirror. A handsome one. What the...  
  
''Told you nobody was pranking you. I'm really here, just like you asked me to. Well, I didn't have to come, but hey, desperate times. Only kids have been calling me, and who would believe them? Your call was my only hope at the moment,'' John said in a rush, trying not to scare off the man he saw through his mirror.  
  
''How... how...'' Sherlock was stammering, which was saying a lot about his astonishment.  
  
''How did I get in the mirror? I- I have no idea. I was in a war in Afghanistan, and now suddenly… I'm here.''  
  
''Oh.''  
  
''Yeah.''  
  
Sherlock touched the mirror with his fingertips. ''What's it like in there?''  
  
''Oh here? It's just a room. Sort of glassy-metallic-mirrory one, you know what I'm saying? I see you and the bathroom like through glass on this wall,'' He places his hand on top of Sherlock's fingers. Sherlock took his own off. ''I just see you instead of me in the mirror.''  
  
''Oh…'' repeated Sherlock.  
  
''Yeah.'' They grinned at the weirdness of the situation.  
  
And that was how Sherlock spent his day, in the bathroom, in a chair he later brought there.  
  
Sometimes they talked about John's situation, sometimes just sat and brainstormed silently.  
  
Sherlock came to the conclusion that John was indeed a real person trapped and cursed, and Sherlock wanted to help him. It was purely scientific of course. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had spent the whole day actually talking with somebody instead of shouting abuse at less intelligent people. John was an enigma. He complimented Sherlock's deductions when he made them, laughed at his jokes and took him seriously. He hid his face sometimes too, but Sherlock had no idea why. It looked like he blushed, but Sherlock didn't believe it. Why would John blush at something he had said? What was so embarrassing?  
  
He had started to call him John in his head, and then realized something. ''Sherlock.''  
  
''I'm sorry?''  
  
''Sherlock. That's my name. It's Sherlock.''  
  
''…Sherlock.''  
  
''Something wrong with that?'' he asked, used to people laughing at his name.  
  
''No, it just... suits you.'' John smiled and it was Sherlock's turn to blush.  
  
A phone call interrupted. ''It's Lestrade. I better answer it.'' And off he went leaving John in the mirror. John sighed deeply, and disappeared.  
  
The case was a bit of a disappointment in Sherlock's mind. _Lestrade could have solved it by himself if he would just use his head a bit more_. It only took few hours to solve it, and while waiting for permission to leave he thought about the man in his mirror. He forgot John the minute he thought that there would be at least an 8. Now he wondered if the man would still be there where he left him. Could he summon him to other mirrors too? Like to a hand mirror or a pocket mirror? Could Sherlock bring him to the crime scenes as well, so that he didn't need to mutter to himself about Anderson's stupidity anymore? He had to test that.  
  
On the way back to Baker Street he stole Mrs. Hudson's table mirror and brought it to his flat. He wanted to do nothing else but summon John again and talk to him the whole night. What would they talk about? Would John want to talk to him anymore, since Sherlock was so useless about his situation? He didn't like not knowing.  
  
He threw his clothes off and got ready for bed. When he was under the duvet (he felt weird since he rarely used his bed, much less got ready for one), he set the mirror on the table and called;  
  
''John.''  
  
Okay, maybe just 'John' wasn't enough.  
  
''Bloody John, Bloody John, Bloody John''. Still nothing.  
  
''Bloody Johnny, _Bloody Johnny_ , _**Bloody Johnny.**_ ''  
  
''I really hate that nickname you know,'' came John's voice from the mirror.  
  
''I know. I tried to call you just John or Bloody John but it didn't work,'' Sherlock defended himself.  
  
''Hmph... I though you were gone for good.''  
  
''Now why would you think that?''  
  
''You left just like that. Left me standing in the mirror, like you forgot me already.'' John looked away.  
  
''Oh, that. Lestrade had an interesting case. And when I say had…''  
  
''Lestrade?'' John interrupted.  
  
''He is a DI in Scotland Yard. He consults me sometimes. And by sometimes I mean often.''  
  
''So he's not your…'' The face in the mirror looked hesitant.  
  
''My what?'' Sherlock narrowed his eyes.  
  
''I don't know… boyfriend?'' and before Sherlock could say anything John continued. ''Well you just left and if he was just your friend you wouldn't have since it was more likely that my situation was more interesting than anything he had to say. And by interesting I meant weird and abnormal! Not that I'm that interesting. So I figured he was something more.''  
  
''Very good. Apart from where you were completely wrong that is.'' That also meant Sherlock found John interesting, but John didn't need to know that.  
  
''It would have been fine you know.'' John said gingerly.  
  
''I know it's fine.''  
  
''So there's nobody special in your life right now?''  
  
''You are awfully curious, you know.''  
  
''Sorry. Living inside a mirror only talking to young children might do that to you. Human contact and all that.'' John answered sarcastically. ''I'm just… chatting.'' He left unmentioned that he was curious about Sherlock's relationship status. Not that the knowledge improved his situation in any way.  
  
They were quiet for a while.  
  
''So, the mirror is smaller this time.''  
  
''Hmm, I thought that a smaller one would be more practical. No more sitting in a loo.'' Sherlock shrugged.  
  
''Yes, I can see that you are very comfortable.'' John teased.  
  
Sherlock glanced down at his shirtless chest and suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. He hadn't thought about that when getting ready to bed. Sherlock was usually alone, it was his bedroom and he always slept naked – if he slept. Sure, he had thought about talking to John, but since the man wasn't actually in the room in flesh... Sherlock blushed and muttered something incoherent. John just kept smiling smugly.  
  
They spent the night talking again. Sherlock told about his experiments, mentioned his landlady, how annoying Anderson was, how tea just appeared to his apartment (which to John commented that it probably was Mrs. Hudson), and how utterly bored he normally was when there were no murder cases to solve. John read between the lines that Sherlock was in some way grateful for someone to talk to.  
  
They did this almost every night. Sherlock called John in his various new mirrors, and they talked. Sometimes even bickered when Sherlock came home with cuts after facing a criminal with a knife. John advised him on how to treat them and was angry the rest of the night because Sherlock was so careless with his life. After that John insisted to be brought to crime scenes in Sherlock's pocket mirror. The horror on both of their faces was sudden when Sherlock once managed to drop the mirror to the ground and shatter it while John was currently in it. Sherlock had immediately abandoned the chase and gathered the pieces calling John from each of them. He didn't answer, and even Lestrade was worried by Sherlock's sudden odd behavior and his hasty departure.  
  
On the way home Sherlock was panicking and he tried to summon John from every reflective surface he could find. He stopped chanting 'Bloody Johnny' towards the car's side mirror after noticing how the taxi driver looked at him oddly.  
  
Back at the flat Sherlock ran straight to bathroom and tried again. No response. He got even more worried and sat on the toilet seat for the next couple of hours calling John and wondering if he had killed him. When was the last time he had been so scared for another human being? Without Sherlock noticing, John had become a very important person in his life. John was the only one who listened to him, complimented him, bickered with him about eating and taking care of himself. Even Mrs. Hudson didn't do it that much. What would Sherlock do if John never came back?  
  
''Bloody Johnny.''  
  
''Bloody Johnny.'' He sighed deeply.  
  
''Bloody Johnny,'' and then... '' _ **JOHN**_!''  
  
John had appeared in the mirror - bloody. Sherlock couldn't help but to snicker inwardly at the irony before quickly standing up and pressing his hands to the mirror.  
  
''John, are you okay? I'm so sorry for dropping you I thought I lost you for good or killed you and would now be forever alone and that I had no one to talk to and- and...''  
  
"I'm alright, Sherlock,'' John said, picking out shards from his arm. "What happened?"  
  
"Well like I said, I kind of... dropped the pocket mirror you were currently occupying, and it shattered on the ground. I tried to call you to the pieces but then figured maybe you had to have an intact mirror in order for it to work. You were gone for two hours! Where were you?"  
  
"At first I saw you running, and then the picture blurred. This stupid mirror room swayed and then suddenly shattered around me. Everything went black and I woke up just now when I heard you calling me. The room is just like it was before. It's just me leaving some bloodstains everywhere."  
  
"I thought I lost you." Sherlock said quietly.  
  
John lift his hand and touched the other side of Sherlock's hand.  
  
"I'm still here," he answered tenderly. Sherlock's gasped and took his hand off and stared at it. It was wet. His hand was covered in blood.  
  
"OH, THIS IS BRILLIANT!" he jumped in celebration.  
  
"What is?" John startled looking at the hand too. Sherlock beamed at him first, and suddenly quieted. "It's just that..." Sherlock said hesitantly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"This proves you are real. That you aren't a figment of my imagination, though we have mostly established that already. It's possible to hallucinate things that aren't there, but that only happens when I'm really high."  
  
"When you are _what_?" John looked at him, eyes wide.  
  
"It's nothing. Just a small solution when I feel like it. But are you sure you're okay?" He tried to change the subject and started to observe all the cuts and lacerations John had. He probably looked worse than he was, and Sherlock sighed in relief. The bloody man in the mirror frowned at him a bit before nodding.  
  
"It was just a small nap, no big deal. I'm sure you had worse, having to worry about your handsome little pocket-man's well-being." He winked at Sherlock. It was supposed to be a joke to lighten up the mood, but then Sherlock surprised him by saying,  
  
"Well I'm glad my handsome little pocket man is safe and sound now." His eyes darted to the side a few times nervously before looking into John eyes smiling a little.  
John just beamed widely at him.  
  
The slowly growing flirting was a new but a welcome addition to their peculiar relationship. They would go on about Sherlock's cases and John's stories about his sister for hours, until one of them (usually John) changed the subject and this thing in their eyes would start to glow. Sherlock had always known he was gay, and from the beginning he had found John very attractive. The only problem was his non-existent history with real relationships, due to the fact that he was really rough around the edges and usually nobody could stand his company for long (not that he could stand theirs any longer). He had no experience, no knowledge of what was good and what a bit not good. So Sherlock was rather shy when it came to John.  
  
John, on the other hand, found this very endearing and loved to tease Sherlock. He found that he was looking forward to hearing Sherlock call him when he was bored, and happily stepped in front of the mirror every time it happened. Other times he walked the length of the mirror room moodily back and front, frustrated to be its prisoner. He didn't know how to get out of there, and often worried if he ever would. He didn't share these thoughts with Sherlock though. The man had enough on his mind and didn't need some love-sick, bored-out-of-his-mind mirror-man to, well, bother him all the time. John should have known better, since it was Sherlock - at his own free will - who called him on a daily basis.  
  
Their relationship (if you could call it that) grew deeper, and while they talked and teased each other and laughed together, Sherlock could see a shadow behind John's eyes. It hurt him, knowing that while John enjoyed their time together, the man grew depressed about being trapped in the mirror and there was nothing he could do about it. There were times when after some flirty teasing they would just stare into each other’s eyes, until the moment passed. Those were the moments Sherlock wanted to grab John and kiss him senseless. But he couldn't.  
  
Sherlock's mood darkened while the shadow in front of him grew, and he slowly started to produce a shadow of his own too.  
  
It went on like this for a while, until Sherlock had had enough of it. Had enough of watching as the glow in John's eyes dimmed even further. He finally understood that he loved John, that he had fallen for him the day he thought he'd lost him. Sherlock wanted to confess this, thought wasn't sure why. Something to do with sentiment, he scowled at himself.  
  
At first he was scared at the thought. Love was a weakness after all, a human error. But Sherlock came to realize that maybe there was something more to it. Maybe it was a weakness when the enemy could use them or hurt them. But nobody couldn't hurt his John since he was already safe. He was always there, watching over him, just behind two frankly ridiculous words. But while John was safe from the outside world, he was far from it inside his own head. Sherlock often tried to amuse him or shock him with his tales, but that could only work for so long.  
  
''C'mon John, another round of 'Deductions'? I've got this hat a client forgot here. You'll shine in this one, I'm 76% positive you will.''  
  
''Not in the mood anymore, Sherlock. But you know I always love to hear your deductions, game or not.'' John smiled honestly at him. They gazed into each other's eyes for a moment and Sherlock closed his eyes inhaling deeply.  
  
''I love you.'' Sherlock muttered.  
  
John's blue eyes widened comically, and then... he vanished.  
  
Sherlock fidgeted a bit since there were no answer. He opened his eyes - and saw only himself.  
  
''John?''  
  
''John!'' Sherlock got up and walked closer to the mirror that had previously shown his friend. ''... _John?_ ''  
  
He tried to call him three times just like he always had. John didn't come. The only time he had failed to answer Sherlock's summon was when his unconscious, and that was for a good reason. Right now however...  
  
''Oh, John _c'mon!_ You knew it was coming someday, you have no reason to be embarrassed. It's illogical...'' Sherlock was a bit hurt. Why did John hide? It was clear that his feeling were not unrequited. This was simply childish.  
  
''Bloody Johnny, _Bloody Johnny_ , _**Bloody Johnny!**_ ''  
  
Nothing. Just his own face, showing an unbelieving expression.  
  


***  
  


The moment John heard those three life-changing words, a few things happened simultaneously. He was astonished to hear Sherlock mutter those words, because he never knew the depth of his affection, and a huge wave of joy went through him. He also felt a tug behind him, pulling him away from the mirror as Sherlock disappeared. A dark mist, like an octopus ink burst in the water, covered the room leaving him in the darkness for a moment before he opened his eyes. His real eyes in his real body in a real hospital somewhere far away from Sherlock. The machines around John started beeping and a blond nurse rushed to the room he was in.  
  
''Oh,'' she said. ''We didn't think you would ever wake up!''  
  
It took a while and a few different doctors for John to understand that he had been found in the Afghan desert with serious head trauma and had been send back to London, UK, after few brain scans which showed that Captain John Watson wasn't fit for the battlefield anymore - much less to wake up from the coma he had been found in. It took even longer for John's memory to come back piece by piece, and he could recall stuff he hadn't remembered when he was in the mirror. Piece by piece, he built the events back in the right order while slowly recovering, and by the time he was released, he knew what had started it all.  
  
John had been spending his free time confirming his status as Three Continents Watson by shagging some local man in Afghanistan, when the man's mother had caught them. The older lady had been furious and shouted something from which John had understood only a few words. That he had been using her son and how he could sleep with some stranger without any emotional attachment, that he was vain and unlovable. She had cursed John’s soul to be released from the mirrors only if somebody confessed their love to him, and apparently left his body lying somewhere far away from them. John figured the Bloody Mary part of the curse was his own influence to the spell, since it was the first thing that came to his mind when the woman had screamed about mirrors and curses.  
  
But now it was over. He was finally free and John was happy to have his memories of the time in the mirrors -or coma- restored, and could start looking for Sherlock. It felt weird to be out there in the real world, being finally able to go from one place to another and, most importantly, being able to leave the cursed hospital room he had grown to hate. He took two weeks for himself to get used to fresh air and people in general, before finding Sherlock. It proved to be an easy task. Though John didn't know Sherlock's last name, his first name was rare enough to suffice, and soon enough he found one Sherlock Holmes connected with words Scotland Yard and DI Greg Lestrade with a quick search on the internet. John also found his website and gave a fond laugh at the '243 types of tobacco ash' analysis. Yeah that's him.  
  
It was easy to connect the dots and discover that he frequented the St Bartholomew's Hospital. John was surprised and glad about this since he had started his career there. One day he left to visit the place, and while walking through a park he bumped into his old school mate Mike Stamford. After talking for a while, Mike told him he knew Sherlock and that he was at the hospital right now. John beamed.  
  
''Could you take me to him?''  
  


***  
  


At first Sherlock had been really hurt that John wouldn't face him, but after two days of silence he believed that something must have happened to him. John wouldn't just abandon Sherlock after a love confession even if he didn't return the sentiment, or was disgusted, or whatever the reason. John was too honorable for that sort of petty behaviour. So there must have been a reason why John didn't come back. For the next two weeks Sherlock worried that something bad had happened to him, and imagined all the possible scenarios and outcomes. Not one of them made any sense, since the disappearance was so sudden, so out of thin air. He was getting a little afraid and tried to look the man up, but there were currently too many John's in Afghanistan. It was impossible. He would probably never see John again.  
  
Sherlock was alone again, and needed something to do. He considered cocaine, but the image of John's disapproving glare was too clear on his mind. What he needed was John, and since he couldn't have him, he had to settle for the third best thing - body parts.  
  
So Sherlock (to Mrs. Hudson's relief) finally left the flat and found himself before an experiment at St Bart's. He couldn't concentrate though. All he could think about was John.  
  
A door opened and Mike Stamford came in. The man was smiling annoyingly smugly and addressed to Sherlock.  
  
''Sherlock, I've got somebody who wants to meet you.''  
  
''If it's another boring client I'm not interested. Go away.''  
  
''Bloody Sherlock, always so rude to other people.'' came an achingly familiar voice that made Sherlock's breath catch in his throat. He turned around, eyes wide.  
  
There was a rather short man standing at the door and a wide grin on his familiar face. On his completely _real_ face in his completely _real_ body.  
  
  
_''John!''  
  
  
  
_

END


End file.
